The Drowned, the Loner, and the Pilot
by Free of Mundane Thoughts
Summary: Wammy Era fic. How Matt and Mello first met. One snowy night, with the darkening sky in Winchester, England... there was a letter- L... Thus was the birth of “Wammy’s House – Orphanage for Extraordinary Children.”
1. Prologue

**A/N:** First fanfic… prologue of first fanfic ever. FYI, it won't always sound like this, it just does right now because it's a prologue. It WILL have PoVs. Many thanks to **caveat lector**, the most amazing person in the world who 1) inspired me to write something, 2) put up with all my stupid questions, and 3) helped point out what was wrong and somehow make me feel better about my writing AT THE SAME TIME. Truly thankful. :D Also thanks to all the friends I sent this to asking for criticism and comments when I got paranoid with it... especially **babababeanie** (who also happens to be the only friend I sent this to that has a fanfic account! XD) And please review, even if only to say that it really sucked and you hate it more than life itself, because that's helpful to know ^^

**Disclaimer: **I certainly HOPE you already know that I don't own Death Note or any of its characters, because they would NEVER turn out that wonderful… and amazing… and fuzzy… (ahem)if I had.

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The change happened on one snowy night, with the darkening sky in Winchester, England. A lonely boy with big dark eyes and black hair falling in his face, holding onto the hand of a lonely man, known to the world but never understood. The snow fell gently, freezing on the iron gate of a building proudly pronounced "Wammy's House – Orphanage," by the sign posted on the gate.

Then there was a letter- L. The small young boy hid behind the name, playing, helping others not out of the goodness of his heart, but for his own personal amusement. And the graying old man, always lingering in the shadows, protecting his only family from harm.

Thus was the birth of "Wammy's House – Orphanage for Extraordinary Children." Children, whose minds were faster, smarter, and more capable than anyone else's. The letters came first- the experiments. They lost their minds, couldn't handle the expectations, the pressure. Their lives were structured too closely. After that failed attempt came the second generation. Wammy was everywhere yet nowhere, searching hospitals secretly for homeless children, tested for extraordinarily high natural intelligence and skills. These children were given a new chance at life, and an aspiration to work towards. They had a brighter outlook on life, not pushed to any objectives they couldn't achieve.

Enter Mihael Kheel. M was homeless, from a wealthy family, proud. Found by Wammy after an incident where his parents and elder sister drowned at sea. Soon after acceptance into Wammy's House, he rose to the head of the pack, defeating the ex-first place by a landslide, seemingly easily. Got along well with everyone who respected him, easily subdued his enemies in the House. Finally believed he found his rightful place in the world.

Until Nate River. N, the unemotional albino boy with a knack for witty comebacks. Avoided the company of others, and was ignored, save a few compassionate souls wishing to help with his nonexistent problem. Beat Mello by a hairline in the standings, and has been despised by him ever since. Never shared his personal views unless specifically asked, which was rarely, since he scared most of the children with his detached gaze.

And finally, Mail Jeevas, the kid who just wanted to be left alone, who seemed to study everyone and everything around him from a distance. The one whose father died flying his plane, and whose mother raised him alone from age 3 to age 7, when she followed his father to the grave in a car crash. The boy that felt the world was falling to pieces around him, slowly, and was waiting until it did, watching from the other side of the window.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hum de ho hum. :) First actual chapter of the story. Beta'd by caveat lector, the most wonderful. This chapter makes _so_ much more sense than the prologue. This story may or may not actually turn into a MattxMello pairing at some point, I'm not entirely sure where it's going as of chapter 2, but... well, we'll see. If you don't like the pairing, than I am possibly sorry in advance. If you do, then yay. Me too. XD

Um... um... read, please? I did so enjoy writing this chapter, it would be nice to know it is appreciated (or not, if you don't like it, just tell me :)).

**Disclaimer: none of the references to any actual product/character belong to me, including Death Note and Chips Ahoy! Right? They are not mine. ^^**

* * *

I had always adapted easily to change. Mom told me my father died when I was really little, but I never cried for him. I only kept his piloting goggles as a memory. Then mom died last… Sunday, maybe? She never came home. Maybe if I still wasn't hanging under the illusion that she's okay somewhere, just not coming back, I'd cry for her. But I never saw her body after that. The doctors didn't let me- thought I'd get squeamish or something and throw up all over their disgusting sterile cushions. If you ask me, those things deserve to get a little dirty. But of course, you didn't ask me in the first place. Off-topic. So, mom… She gave me a Gameboy Color for Christmas this year, which is still in my pocket. Then, of course, this English guy shows up and I'm transported halfway around the world to England. Why England? Not that it really matters…

We were let through the iron gates by (guess what?) _another_ old English guy. What, were they spawning here or something? There were a lot of children inside, supposedly. The house was grand, like one of those big pillared ones with ancient polished floorboards and a half-brick half-wood exterior. Except without the pillars.

The new old guy asked me something like "What is your name, boy?" And I was still observing the house, so whatever response was automatic would have to do.

"Mail Jeevas, or Matt now, I suppose. How are you Rodger?"

You should have _seen_ the look on his face!! He didn't think I was listening in to their conversation, because I was spacing out, but I hear everything. I always have. It just happens, without me even knowing it. None of this amusement showed on my face, though. It never does. I always look bored or tired or spacey. Nothing else.

Thinking I couldn't hear, Rodger whispered, "How much of our conversation has he—"

I interrupted him before he could finish. "Since 'Nice to see you again, Quillsh' to 'how much of our conversation has he—,' Rodger. The other kids are inside?"

He was quite flustered and took a while to answer. I guess people get that way when they realize someone's been watching them for a very long time. "Ah, yes, the children are in their classes right now."

"Hm…" So we have classes? Like in school? The building was very old-fashioned. And pretty big too, by the looks of it. Considering it'd have to have a dining hall, playroom, bedrooms for everyone, and add classrooms to that… I mapped up a potential blueprint in my head and determined that there was a lot of the building extending behind what you could see from the road. Somewhere in my mind I heard a "Matt, come this way" so I turned to Rodger and followed him into the house. Apparently Mr. Wammy wasn't coming, and he waved goodbye to us from the road. He was actually pretty nice, considering I'd only knew him for a number of hours. A gentleman of few words and many secrets, but nice nonetheless. I stopped for a second to wave back, and then caught up to Rodger before he disappeared into the house.

The inside was just as grand as the outside. Since all the other kids were in classes, I got to choose my room first. There was a whole hall of them; most of the rooms in the beginning of the hall were taken, though. Rodger told me to pick one of the rooms with the door open; those were the ones that didn't have inhabitants yet. I immediately ran to the end of the hall. Better to be as far away from the other kids as possible… but Rodger seemed to have other ideas.

"Matt, you might not want to… go that way. The children avoid it for a reason!" I didn't listen to him. Or, more accurately, I simply ignored what he was saying. There was one room at the very end of the hall with a closed door, but the room across the hall from it was very pretty. Bathed in a blue light, the window was open, looking down at the road. There was a bed on one side with crisp white sheets, and a simple oak desk next to it. The window had a seat, perfect for an observer like me.

I looked back from the room and called, "Rodger! I'm taking this one!" He looked disappointed, but agreed anyways. I had the small duffle bag with my belongings from my old house brought up to the room, which really only held some clothes and my goggles. And the money my mom supposedly left for me.

Rodger went through basic rules of the house: attend classes Monday through Thursday and take the Ranking Test on Friday. Results were posted on Sunday and the process repeated. Shopping was to be done either through internet ordering or the once-a-month trip to the mall. Once a month is somewhat ridiculous, but it would have to do. Same with how, apparently, I 'don't exist' anymore. What the hell does that mean? And now I go by Matt. Why do I need an alias? Though, I suppose it's fine. After all, I _was_ getting sick of people always mispronouncing my name.

During my guide around the house, we passed a few children, probably coming from or going to the bathroom. I put my goggles on, which I had taken from my bag, because they looked at me _so_ _strangely_. Two girls looked purely curious, and whispered to each other after we passed them, one girl looked almost happy, and one boy looked like he wanted to kill me. It made me wonder what kind of person roomed across the hall from me. I asked Rodger.

"And the dining hall is right over-"

"Hey Rodger?"

"-here… what is it?"

"Whose room is across from mine?"

Rodger sighed. "Are you hungry, Matt? You've had a long trip."

I wasn't, really, but I nodded anyways. It would give him an excuse to talk about my hall mate. Apparently there was a whole story about this kid.

He brought me into the kitchen, where the cook was making sandwiches for lunch. I identified the cook as a soft-spoken pushover kind of guy. He told me his name, and offered me snacks from the cupboard. I took some chocolate chip cookies which looked _really_ good… hey; my mom didn't really cook well, alright? I never had homemade chocolate chip cookies. Only the Chips Ahoy! Kind. Rodger was waiting back at the tables, so I raced back over to him and stuck a cookie in my mouth before he started talking.

"The boy who lives in the room across the hall from you is second place in the rankings here. His name is Mello."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Class ended early today, and knowing full well that the dining hall was an unpleasant place to eat when it was full of noisy, disgusting little kids, I ran to get food early. I usually ate in the library or in my room. I stopped right outside the door, though. Rodger was there, _in the dining hall_, _**talking **_to someone.

"…always in his room, studying. Anyone who interrupts him gets yelled at and a door slammed in their face. That's why the other children are afraid of him. He only occasionally played with the others when he was younger, when Near had yet to arrive. Before his pride was hurt." He was talking about me! How dare Rodger say that about me, to anyone! I was about to run in, but a new voice spoke up. It sounded like a young boy, around my age- voice greatly amused and drenched with sarcasm.

"They're scared of _looking _at him? Aren't they supposed to be learning to go up in the world? There're plenty of mean people out there, and you can't just _avoid_ them and gain status that way."

I peered around the door frame to see a boy with crimson hair and piloting goggles on that were impossible to see color through. He was playing a Gameboy Color with his feet propped up on one of the tables, leaning back in his chair with an extremely stoic expression. I couldn't believe this was the boy who owned the amused voice I heard, but there was nobody else in the room.

He looked up suddenly, and locked eyes with me. I realized that other children were running past me into the kitchen, making a rumbling noise through the wooden floorboards. The boy smirked at me, pocketed his game, and stood up, turning to wait for Rodger. I narrowed my eyes at him. He looked at me almost as if he saw through me: who I was, my past, my future, everything. It was frightening, but of course I would never admit that.

Rodger, the old fart , finally stood up and lead the boy away, presumably before the kids came back from the kitchen and trampled him. I walked slowly to the kitchen and got a tray of food to take back to my room. I'd definitely visit the playroom later; that's where most of the kids went in their spare time after lunch, and only in the afternoon migrated outside. That was where Rodger was most likely to introduce the new kid.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I was almost positive that blond boy who had been staring from the door frame was Mello. He seemed just like Rodger described him; proud, wary, and easily annoyed. Rodger was taking me past some of the classrooms, naming them all as he went. English Literature, World History and Geography, Modern and Contemporary Art... I didn't even look at them. At the end of the classroom corridor was the library. The librarian was a young woman with dark hair cropped off at her shoulders delved into what looked like an encyclopedia.

"Ms. Barnes?" Rodger addressed her. Ms. Barnes' head snapped up, her book fell onto the desk in front of her, and she popped up from her chair in less than two seconds. I'd never seen anyone move that fast in my life. In my state of shock, I noticed her fingers twitching and eyes shifting every few seconds. She was the hesitant, hyperactive pushover type, then.

"Y-yes, Mr. Rodger!" She had a _really_ squeaky voice, too! She annoyed me more and more every minute. She quickly rushed over to stand in front of her desk, and almost knocked a coffee mug onto the carpet. I wanted to roll my eyes at her, but that would be rude… and I didn't really want to draw her attention to me.

"Ms. Barnes, this is our new student, Matt. Would you mind showing him around the library?" Rodger seemed oblivious to her twitching fingers and general shaking. To me, he said, "I will come back after the lunch block to introduce you to the other children, so be prepared, alright?" I just nodded, still staring at Ms. Barnes. That must have made her uncomfortable, because she started scooting back and forth across the rug with her feet, as if trying to move away from my stare. It was quite amusing. If I allowed my face to show my emotions more effectively, I might've smiled.

"W-well, then, Matt, p-please come th-this way!" Ms. Barnes ushered me into the back of the library. As she walked behind me, she tried to explain what the library was used for. "There are m-many nonfiction books, including textbooks and other resources on the main f-floor where you entered…" Her stutter was really starting to bother me. "A-and the b-bibliographies are—"

I interrupted her. "Ms. Barnes, I'd love to look around myself, so why don't you return to that book on your desk? You seem very distracted." She blushed. _Blushed_! What did she have to blush about? But she nodded, stuttered some kind of answer, and returned to her desk. Finally! I went wandering in the back of the library. Besides resources on the main floor, there was a balcony-type area with quite a few fiction books and books in other languages. I went down the rows, trailing my finger on every bookcase I passed. French, Latin, Russian, Chinese… how many languages did they TEACH here, anyways? This was ridiculous! What a bizarre school… I ran silently on the carpet back to the fiction section. I never did go very well with textbooks, and I can't read those other languages… fiction sounded most promising.

And I actually found some books I knew. There was quite a lot of diversity in the fiction section, but it was comforting to find at least a few books I'd _heard _about. Which made me wonder: what category would Mom's office books go under? That's what I read most often, seeing as she didn't have money for a babysitter and refused to let me stay home alone. I even helped her out at work sometimes. Computer engineering and designing was very interesting, and all the other workers in her office had seen me around; filing, bringing her coffee, reading her books, practicing typing, sometimes even copying revisions for her.

But reminiscing isn't going to get me anywhere. I ran down (much to my discomfort) to Ms. Barnes' desk. Insert clearing throat sound here. "Ms. Barnes? Could you tell me if there are any computer engineering books here…?"

She jumped, no, _leaped _out of her chair. "O-of course! They're in the r-reference section…" She sashayed out of her desk space, tripping on her computer cord as she went, and hop/skipped to the middle-back of the reference section. Was she _always_ this hilarious? I followed her into the row of shelves, and she pointed out a huge section of books to me. There were at least 300 books there! At _least_! Definitely impressive. I even recognized some of the titles. I picked up a book I hadn't read with a really long title. Something about design, visualization, and engineering… good enough for me. It would keep me busy until Rodger came back, at least.

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...reviews? They 1) let me know someone's reading, which is always good, 2) help inspire me to write more, and 3) help me fix parts of my writing that people may/may not like.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Yes I know these are all coming very quickly, mostly because of all my enthusiasm and free time available to devote to writing it. However my beta is going to Rome for 9 days, so that's how long you'll have to wait for the next chapter! ^^' Sorry! But judging how fast I'm writing this you might get two chapters to make up for lost time. Again, please review (because it would make me very happy) and thank you for reading :D

**Disclaimer: I sincerely hope you know that I don't own Death Note, The Iliad (Homer died a while ago, folks), Tom & Jerry (though I do love the show!), Wikipedia or The Online Slang Dictionary. I actually DID conduct those searches, and they do work if you want to try it ^^ **

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At 12:45 my alarm went off. I picked myself up from the stupid broken swivel chair that needed serious fixing (I made a mental note to order another one later) and swiped _The Iliad_ from my bed before storming out of my room. Some of the faster eaters had occupied the playroom and were watching some kind of cat-and-mouse television show, talking, predictably, about the 'new kid.' More children slowly streamed through the door after finishing their meal and joined the conversation.

Two girls had apparently seen him on their trip to the bathroom during class and were telling their eager friends how 'cute' and 'handsome' he was. Another guy who had apparently seen him told his friends that he was a 'dweeb' and 'looks weak.' And still another girl was happy that he seemed pretty nice, unlike many of the boys here. Including me.

For many, though, it meant new competition. I wasn't so worried, since he didn't seem overly smart, and wouldn't danger my position. I glared at the growing tower of dice in the opposite corner. Somewhere in that mess was the only kid who beat me in grades. My teeth clenched as a strikingly white hand reached over the other side of the tower to place a die on top. I cracked my neck, took a deep breath, and opened my book to where I had left off.

After about three pages, the excited whispers from across the room abruptly stopped. The crash of a piano sounded from the television show as Rodger ushered in the boy from earlier. He was staring at the ground with a completely blank face.

Rodger cleared his throat. "Children," he started, pushing the boy gently in the back, causing him to stumble a few steps forward at the sudden movement, "this is Matt. He is new here, so please help him feel at home." Matt bent his head lower, covering his goggled eyes with his bangs.

A small group gathered around him, asking him questions like "are you alright?" and "what's the matter with him?" Matt shook his head vigorously and raised his head. He smiled very faintly, for only a few seconds, and then scanned the room. He locked eyes with everyone there, strategically going in order around, left to right. Some of the girls blushed when he met their eyes, and as soon as he moved on, whispered to their friends.

His gaze stayed longer on Near, unfortunately. That albino was always the center of attention. Why does everyone take so much notice of the silent boy always playing with little kid's toys? I shivered and turned my gaze away from the block tower, back to the redhead. During his scan, he was answering questions of the kids around him. Everyone wanted to know who he was and how big of a threat he was to their scores.

"What are you interested in?"

"How old are you?"

"What school did you go to before?"

He answered them all in order without even looking at them. "None of your business. 7 at the moment. One in America."

Another girl, Tani, was asking him a question when he interrupted her. "Have you ever—"

"You watch Tom & Jerry?"

Tani shut up immediately, then realized no one else was going to answer him. "Uh… is that what the show is called?"

He smiled, and for a moment looked like he was going to laugh at her, but stopped himself and maneuvered his way through the crowd to the television. "Yeah… Tom's the cat and Jerry's the mouse. It used to play on TV all the time back home." Many of the girls looked ecstatic, probably because he really _was_ pretty cute when he smiled. Well, compared to the other guys here, at least… he was somewhat good looking.

Another girl spoke up. Linda. "At some point during the first few days, after you get settled in, of course, may I sketch you?" she asked him, gesturing to her sketchbook in the corner. She had more in her room, which had sketches of everyone in the orphanage since the day she arrived taped on the walls, covering the whole back of her room leaving only the window. I had never seen them, but the kids in some of my classes talk about the most useless and random things, and Linda is occasionally the topic of conversation.

She flipped through the notebook and held it out to Matt. He took it, and scanned a few pages. "Wow, these are really good! Have you ever drawn in color?" He glanced up at her briefly, and she shook her head, then opened her mouth as if to say something.

"I take a lot of art classes though. Sometime I might try it."

"Hm… That's cool. I think they would look really nice in color." He handed the notebook back to her, then turned and scanned the crowd once more. Finding out whatever he wanted to know, he turned to me. I stared right back at him. I wasn't turning away; that would be like forfeiting a battle. I gave him my hardest glare, but he didn't even flinch. He just stared right back, eyes flicking over me up and down. They were hard to see through the goggles, and I couldn't figure out his eye color.

When he finally locked eyes with me, he smiled. "Hey Mello." Rodger told him what I looked like? That's strange, Rodger doesn't often talk about appearance. I squinted at him and slammed my book shut. He flinched, luckily, and I jumped off the chair to walk out. I heard him come after me. Why was he following me? "Well that was nice, asshole. Hey, wait up!" Asshole?

"Asshole?"

He stopped. "Uh… sorry? But that _wasn't _very nice."

I'd never heard that word before. My parents always spoke gently, and never let me into the city. Rodger had never mentioned it to any of the children, and all the other kids avoided me like the plague. "What… does that mean?" I asked him.

He smiled again. It seemed a little forced, but maybe that was just me. "Well…" he started walking again, and I followed just so I could hear what he was saying. All my annoyance had dissipated. "Asshole is a more severe, vulgar way of saying 'butt face.' It's a swear. You haven't heard of them?" I shook my head. "Lots of people use them. They're like street slang. Asshole, dipshit, bitch, fuck, damn, hell… there's a whole bunch of 'em."

"An ass is another word for a donkey. A bitch is a female dog. To fuck is to have sexual intercourse. Damnation is punishment from God. And hell is a fictional underworld where certain religions, including Christianity, believe you go if you've committed a sin in life." I recited without realizing it. He laughed. It was a very cute laugh, and it made me smile.

"Yeah, that's kinda what they mean. Ass, or asshole, or another variation of the word are insults you'd call another person. Same with bitch, dipshit or shitface… again, there are many variations of the words. Damn is used when you're angry or annoyed at something or someone. Like 'dammit' or 'damn you!'" We were headed towards my room, which made me wonder which room he had picked to stay in. "Ah, fuck is also used a lot to express anger. Phrases like 'fuck off,' or 'get the fuck outta here,' or something. Search it on the internet!" I turned at the end of the hall to open my door, and just before it opened, I heard, "see you at dinner, hall mate." I turned around just in time to see the door across the hall swing closed.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I waited until I heard his door close before crossing my room to the bed. My jaw hurt. I don't normally smile that much, if at all. I don't really need to. Interesting that Mello didn't know about swears. He's the kind of kid who'd usually be swearing left and right. Has he never interacted with other people or something? Most of the guys at the office swore, and mom would always tell them to shut up so I wouldn't hear. I heard anyways, and typed the words into wikipedia to find the meanings. Scarred me for life.

I shivered, remembering those pictures I found. Links on wikipedia can be very helpful, but they can also be _very _dangerous. Know what you're clicking on before trying it. And _never_ search 'sexual intercourse' on wikipedia. Bad idea. Especially if you haven't turned 6 yet. And yes, I know what you're thinking. Cute little 5-and-a-half-year-old Matt went on wikipedia and searched 'sexual intercourse.' It's true. But hey, I didn't know _that_ was going to show up!

Moral of this story: small children should be supervised when they go on the computer. Maybe that's what happened with Mello… his parents shielded him from the brunt of society. Possible. And of course, Rodger, being the English gentleman he is, wouldn't have told Mello anything about swears. From what I heard about him, he's not really the kind of person you want to get angry. Add swears to that, and children would cry.

Despite myself, I smiled at that. Let them cry, the damage has already been done. Yeah, the damage to my _jaw._ Jeez that hurt. I oughta practice smiling more often. I took my Gameboy out of my pocket and turned it on again. I'd been playing it all day, and had just reached the fourth gym in Pokemon Red. So easy. Grass Pokemon have _nothing_ against my Charmeleon. Rodger said dinner was at 6:30, so I had five hours and twenty-two minutes to play. Well, maybe five hours and two minutes- I wanted to check out the internet here.

"Ha! Take that, bitch! That's right, your precious Vileplume is DEAD!"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The first website I found helpful on 'street slang' was 'The Online Slang Dictionary.' I found a 'list of insults' including some of the words Matt had told me and their variations. They were also used in sentences, like 'I was an ass,' and 'Look at that big-ass zit on his nose!' Helpful things, those swears.

Now, why was I researching this again? I had homework to do. I closed the internet and focused on the blank word document in front of me. Soon to become an essay.

Joy.

Dammit. Dammit…? Gah! I don't want to do this! I brought my head down to the table faster than I thought and bashed my head on my desk.

Ow. I wonder if that slang dictionary has a phrase for this too… no! Not again! These things _can't_ come into my head while I'm studying! I'll just have to ask Matt at dinnertime… and who said I was eating dinner with him? I never agreed to that! I'm not even looking forward to it! Not even a little!

"Well… maybe a little," I mumbled to myself. I don't remember the last time I'd had a real conversation with another kid. They avoided me, and I avoided them. But not the new kid. Not Matt.

I checked the clock. 2:15. I just spent over an hour on something not even remotely related to studying. For me, that was a record. Congratulations, Matt. You've just occupied Mello's brain for over an hour. Give yourself a pat on the back, dipshit.

…Great.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I turned off my game right before the 8th gym leader and sat up. Internet. And guess how smart I am, I didn't have a computer. What to do, what to do… well, I guess that's what hall mates are for! Slipping to the floor, I ran across the hall and rapped on the door. The answer made my already-sore mouth smile again.

"What do you want, asshole?" came the muttered reply.

I responded with just as much enthusiasm. "Open the door, bitch."

Something fell. There were a lot of scuffling noises and a surprised "Matt?" before the door opened and Mello stared back at me.

I looked at him with the most innocent puppy-eyes I could muster. "Miss me?" Oh yeah, and before I forgot… "And have you been adding to your vocabulary recently?"

He gave me a glare that clearly said "go die," but instead what came out of his mouth was, in a steadily increasing crescendo, "what do you _want_, asshole!"

Faithfully remembering my duty, I replied, "I'm checking the internet service here. Using your computer." He sighed, glared at me again (I'm proud to say his glares had no effect on me), and walked away from the door, leaving it open for me. How kind he was!

Most of what I usually did on the computer was for my mom's work. Since that wasn't really an option anymore, I checked some game forums. Mom was so old-fashioned, there are so many new systems out now… I wonder if she left me enough money to get something new. But all these raves about new games were making me jealous. I closed out of the internet.

And noticed an interesting icon on his desktop. A shortcut to a program called 'Wammy.' What the hell was that? "Um… 'Wammy?'" Maybe that wasn't clear enough. "What's that?" I looked over to see Mello sitting on the bed with a textbook. He seemed to be trying to study, but was staring at me instead. By the looks of it, he'd been watching me for a while, too. "And why are you staring at me like that?"

He narrowed his eyes at me before speaking. "I wasn't staring." Oh, _sure_ you weren't. "'Wammy' is the ordering service here. It allows the children to order whatever they need from the appropriate stores. Then Mr. Wammy or Rodger will go and buy it for us. Speaking of which, click on it."

I _was_ kind of interested, so I did. 'Wammy' linked me to a login page. Mello kicked me out of his broken swivel chair (which had been digging into my back) and typed 'secondplace' as the user. The password was coded, but about 10-12 digits long, started with 'm' and ended with 'eel.' Interesting.

A new screen popped up. Listed were all different kinds of stores; bookstores, music stores, clothing stores, furniture stores, game stores… anything. He went into furniture and searched for 'chairs.' At least 1000 similar items popped up. Way to narrow down your search. Somehow he found a few swivel chairs halfway down the third page. He 'bought' it and signed out before I asked him about it.

"Hey Mello… how do I get a computer? And can you really get _anything_? You don't need to pay?" He turned around to glare at me. No answer. "Aw, come on, didn't Rodger say to give the 'new kid' a hand?" He sighed and stood up.

"Yes, you can buy anything, no fee. Rodger will probably help with all the technical stuff after dinner. In fact," he paused to glance at the alarm clock, which presented the numbers 6:23 in bright neon green, "he should be here any minute."

Speaking of the clock, it was one of the only things in the room. The bed, desk, and closet that were in every room, plus his broken chair, computer, clock, and massive pile of books. Mostly textbooks. If not for all the papers on the desk and slightly wrinkled sheets, you might think that nobody lived in here. I had only been in my room for a few hours, and _that_ was messier than Mello's room.

While pondering this, there was a knock across the hall. "Matt?" It was Rodger's voice.

Not feeling like moving, I called back from the middle of the room. "In here, Rodger."

"From Mello's…?" He sounded surprised. No duh, of _course_ he was surprised. Mello was supposed to be the bully that wouldn't let anyone near him. Not anymore! Rodger tentatively opened the door. "Matt! Why are you in here?"

Mello answered for me. "He was using the internet. You didn't give him a computer yet, so he used mine. Right, Matt?" He looked to me for confirmation.

"Y-yeah."

Rodger seemed pleased. "Well then, Mello, please take Matt to dinner for me, and bring him to my office afterwards." Mello nodded curtly, and Rodger left.

"Come on, then. Dinner's this way."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: **And we're back! Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and faved/alerted (is that even a word?) my story! I'm soo happy!!! :D To thank you, and to apologize for making you wait so long for an update, I give you two new chappies! ^^ The fifth chapter is in the process of being written and will be posted as soon as it's written and beta'd, even without the encouragement of reviews, but reviews make me very happy and joyful inside and would probably make that process go faster.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any references I made in this story to names of copyrighted products/persons.**

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Dinner tonight was spaghetti. There were also meatballs and two different sauces, parmesan cheese, salad and three salad dressings, and a bowl of miscellaneous fruit on a side table. Surprising variety for an 'orphanage.' Mello sat down at one of the tables farthest away from the kitchen.

The other children were noisy going into the kitchen, but when they came out and caught sight of me and Mello across the room, they fell silent. Soon the whole room was really awkwardly silent, all staring at us.

"Uh… Mello?" I whispered. "Why are they all… staring?" He looked up from sulking over his pasta bowl and gave me a shrug. "Why are you sulking? …you don't normally eat in here, do you?" That caught his attention.

"How the he-_ck_ did you figure that out?" He caught himself before he swore again. Seeing as there were a few three or four-year-old kids in the room, that was probably smart.

"Just observant. Are they going to stare at us all dinner?" Mello growled at me, then nodded and shrugged again.

"Probably. You got a problem with that?"

I paused. _Did_ I have a problem with that? "No… maybe." Okay, it _was_ kind of creeping me out. I recognized some of the faces from this afternoon. That would be a good thing to ask Mello. "Hey, you know all the kids here, right?"

Mello looked at me like I was an idiot. "Yeah… why?" Good, just checking.

"Sweet. Who was the girl asking about sketches earlier? With the blond pigtails and—"

"Linda," he interrupted.

"Okay, and the girl who asked about Tom & Jerry?"

"Tani."

I thought back to who else was there. "How about the boy who asked about my hobbies?" Mello didn't look like he understood who I was talking about, so I elaborated. "He had brown eyes and dark brown hair, wore dark-framed glasses, wearing bleached jeans and a black Green Day tee shirt. Looked to be about 10 or so, and—"

"How did you remember all of that?" Mello looked shaken.

I shrugged. "Good memory." The other kids had started whispering to each other around their tables. Was it _that_ big of a deal? "So what's his name?"

It took Mello a while to answer. "…uh, Danny." I nodded. Mello tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the table to the far right. There were five kids sitting there, all staring at me like I was some kind of freak show. He pointed to each of them and said their name. "Honda, Jill, Linda, Sammy, Marcus…" he paused, moving on to the next table. "Christa, Jay…" I quickly matched name to face and stored them away in my mental contact book. I also noticed quite a few traits: Linda was the artist (she had even brought her sketchbook to dinner), and Marcus had a habit of drumming the fingers of his right hand on his knee when it wasn't being used.

When Mello finished, he stared at me for a bit, scrunching up his eyebrows. "What?" Was there something _wrong_ with me? Is it a crime to have a good memory?

He was hesitant in asking me, but finally said, "Did you remember all that?"

Slightly annoyed, I turned around and pointed to each kid in order, firing off their names. "Honda, Jill, Linda, Sammy…" All of their eyes widened when I said their name, which was slightly amusing. At the end, I felt fairly smug, and added, "oh, and Marcus? Do you realize that you drum your right fingers on your knee when not moving?" Apparently he didn't, because he jolted and stopped immediately.

I heard one kid from another table say "woah…" and I quickly finished my meal. Being the center of attention is unnerving. Mello got the hint and stood up, leading me back through the exit of the kitchen to drop off our plates.

Outside the dining hall, he turned to go down a hallway Rodger hadn't shown me. I ran after him and yelled "wait a sec!" He paused, but didn't look back. "Where is the white kid I saw earlier?"

Mello visibly stiffened. "Don't talk about him to me. Ever." He started walking again, faster. This time I followed silently, looking at the rooms we past by. There was an infirmary, a bathroom, two unused bedrooms (strange to find here, seeing as all the adults were supposed to sleep upstairs), and at the very end, Rodger's office. Once I was there, Mello nodded to the door of the office and went back. Well, Rodger wouldn't hurt me, so there's nothing to be scared of, right? I opened the door and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Rodger was sitting behind his desk, writing. He looked up when I came in and waved me forward to sit in a chair off to the side. "Matt," he addressed me when he finished his work, "you are here to finish the technical business required for your stay. You need to complete standardized survey to determine what classes you will go to, you need to order a computer," at this I perked up. My own computer! I had already determined that, if possible, I wanted my computer to be orange. Just because. "…and you need to see the nurse, Ms. Hopkins, to complete your medical check-up." Ugh! I hate check-ups. "First, please pick out a computer."

He ushered me over to his side of the desk, and let me choose either a brand computer or customized. Customizing my own computer? Sweet. Let's see… motherboards. There were at least 10 different motherboards to choose from, but what was I really going to be using the computer for? Games, definitely, and internet. And maybe designing or something. So… I selected an Intel motherboard and hit 'next.' CPU was next- guess I was going for another Intel. I didn't need too much multitasking availability, so I got a Duo core. Next. One Power Supply, Video Card, Sound Card, this, that, etc. later, I had (finally) sent in my computer order form. They ask _so many_ questions! I was surprised how much I knew about the equipment.

Rodger also seemed impressed. "Not many children customize their computer. You're the first in the last couple years." He coughed, turning back to the papers on his desk. "Well, here is your survey, please answer as truthfully as possible. You can take it with you to the infirmary. Oh, and please give Ms. Hopkins these forms." I nodded, taking whatever papers he gave me, and turned to leave, but he stopped me. "Matt… take care of Mello." Nothing else. Was Rodger worried about him?

Ms. Hopkins, huh… I shivered before entering. I could smell the cloying scent of disinfectant from the door. Wonderful.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I sat in my room reading. Though I couldn't really concentrate. Dammit, Matt, why'd you have to bring up _him?_ I cringed. Just thinking about him ticked me off. Fucking albino… pushing that aside, what was it about that Matt kid that caught my attention? Sure, he was new, but there were new kids every year. He had a good memory- well, everyone was interested in that, but that's not a reason for him to be different from the other kids. They had talents too, otherwise they wouldn't be here. He… wasn't scared. He wasn't afraid of talking to me. And maybe it was because I hadn't talked to another kid my age for years that he interested me. Maybe he's the first one who tried to be my friend. Friend? Are we friends? …I'd ask Matt later.

Dammit, work! I'd been neglecting it for the entire afternoon. I looked back at the blank page I had designated earlier for my 'Famous Ancient Literature – Greece and Rome' paper, which I had been annotating and re-reading the Iliad for, which had all the research collected for, which just needed to be typed up… I wasn't in the mood for homework. I took a chocolate bar out from my top desk drawer and sat down at the computer. This was going to be another all-nighter.

I blamed Matt.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ms. Hopkins wasn't immediately visible when I stepped into the infirmary. I stood at the door, shuffling my feet until a lady with hazel eyes and light brown curls pulled into a short ponytail tripped her way out of the back room. Clumsy, are we?

It took her less than two seconds to notice and identify me. "Oh! Matt, right? Please wait for just a minute…" She had a surprisingly steady and calm voice to go with her clumsy feet. Perceptive, but not with a lot of coordination. When she turned her attention back to me, I held out the sheets Rodger had given me. "Oh, are these from Rodger? Thank you, Matt. Now let's see…" She wrote fast! She filled in one of the forms in less than two minutes, leaving a few slots blank, and asked me if I had had any new injuries or illnesses since my last doctor's appointment. My last doctor's appointment was… um… how long ago? I hadn't gotten hurt as far as I knew, so I shook my head 'no.'

She did a normal sort of check-up, with the heart beat thing (oh yeah! A stethoscope!), and the blood pressure thing that always made my arm feel like it was going to fall off, and the lights in my ear (it always felt tingly and I tried scooting away but she stopped me before I fell off the check-up table) and mouth and nose (that also felt weird, and I almost sneezed on her). When she was finally done she told me I could do my survey in my room, and I nodded and got out of there as fast as physically possible without running. Any place was more comfortable than that room.

'What are your hobbies?' the survey asked me on the first page. "I… like… com-pu-ter-s." Maybe that was a little vague. "And… pr-o-gram-m-ing." There. Oh yeah! "And games." Good. That was enough for that. There wasn't much else I did, anyways. Next question was… "What do I know about the history of politics? What the hell? I don't know _any_thing about it!" And I wrote just that. Skipping the 'hell' part, Rodger might not like that.

'Please put a check next to the languages you speak fluently. Please circle the languages you can hold some conversation in. Please put an X next to the languages you know some words of.' Getting specific there, huh? Well… I spoke English fluently. Check. Um… I used to speak some French with mom… I think I can hold conversation in that. Somewhat. And who knows how to speak Igbo? Where _is_ that spoken, anyways? There were around 1000 languages listed, and then a few spaces for 'other' languages, too. What, did one of these 5-year-olds travel the world or something? Next page.

After the 50-somethingth page of the stupid survey, I finally ran it down to Rodger. Apparently he had to stay up all night to get me into classes by tomorrow, and I sincerely hoped I didn't have to learn all 1000 languages on that sheet.

When I came back up I stopped in front of Mello's door. A light was shining through the crack beneath the door. Was he still awake…? I put my ear to the door and heard a crackle, snap, typing, and flipping pages that confirmed my theory. Doing homework, huh… Rodger _did_ tell me he was a workaholic. I smiled before remembering that that probably wasn't a good idea. Ow. I slipped into my room and was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Hey, a lot went on that day, can you blame me? No? That's what I thought.

Knock knock. "Matt? It's morning, wake up please."

"Ungh… 5 more minutes…" I grumbled into my pillow. I was _not_ a morning person.

"Matt, you need to wake up now." Jeez, mom, would it kill you to… mom? That was a man's voice. Why was there a man in our house?

There was a scuffle outside the door, and a "no Rodger, just, here let me," and then my door flew open and the same voice yelled "Wake up, ya idiot! New day, and you're not at home anymore, if that's what you were thinking. What, do I _look_ like a mom to you?" I sleepily nodded that yes, in fact, the boy _did_ look something like my mom, albeit shorter and with blue eyes instead of green. In my half-asleep state, I didn't think of the dangers of this reply.

The eyes flared. "_What?!?_" he screeched. "You did _not _just fucking _say that_!" He ripped the covers off and I tumbled onto the floor. Cold! Ok, I was awake. But that boy—Mello, my memory supplied for me—wasn't done with me. "Who…" he scathed, stepping towards me, "the _hell_…" he started beating me over the head with his fists, "looks like…" his hair was flailing everywhere, whipping me in the face, "your _mom_!" He hit me one last time, hard, and sat back, breathing heavily and glaring daggers at me. Rodger was gaping like a fish out of water.

I tested my jaw. It felt much better than yesterday, so I grinned at the poor old man. "Sorry, I'm a sound sleeper."

Mello was already up and in the hall. "Get over it, shitface." I grinned wider. "C'mon, new guy, do you want breakfast or not?" And with that, before Rodger could reply to his vulgar comment, he raced down the hall and out of sight.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Technically I don't need to say anything here, since this chapter and the last one are being uploaded at the same time, but I do feel a little bad for leaving this chapter as a cliffie... ^^' Sorry in advance for that. All more reason to review, right? (OK, I'm also sorry for blackmailing you into reviewing...) But seriously, reviews make my day. Please review, even just for the sake of making me happy and showing me that you actually read this. Even if you don't REALLY have anything to say, I like getting reviews anyways!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or the saying I put on the tee shirt Matt's wearing in this chapter, and I thank the person who came up with that tee-shirt saying for making me laugh. ^^**

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After Rodger apologized to me about Mello's language and swore he didn't know where he learned it (I didn't tell him that I introduced those words to him), he left me to dress. There wasn't a whole lot of choice in the matter, mind you. I could wear jeans pair 1, 2, 3, or 4 (which all looked practically identical—I chose pair 2) and a few basic shirts. AKA, whichever one was clean… or rather, whichever was clean_est_. None of them have ever really been _clean_ in the first place. I picked one out that was black (which helped to hide some of the stains) and said "every time I hear the dirty word 'exercise' I wash my mouth out with chocolate," pulled my goggles back over my eyes (they had fallen off when I slipped from the bed) and ran downstairs after Mello.

No, not to see him, I was just… hungry, okay?

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I heard Matt coming from the top of the stairs. I wasn't waiting for him, I just… happened to rest at the bottom of the stairs… obviously. He saw me and came over. His shirt said… well, to put it briefly, I burst out laughing. That hasn't happened for a few years. I forgot that was possible. Children stared, completely forgetting their food. Apparently they didn't know it was possible either. Matt just smiled at me.

"What, my shirt? You like chocolate, huh?" I stopped laughing immediately. His intuition was scarily accurate… When I didn't say anything, he took it as a yes and asked if I was going to eat or not. Well of _course_ I was going to eat, dumbass. I had just survived the night on chocolate alone. And finished my paper, of course.

Walking after Matt into the kitchen, I nearly bumped into him. He was standing in a particular part of the kitchen where you can't see him from the entrance, but still very close, so walking in is dangerous if you want to avoid a collision. "Why the hell did you…" Peering around him I saw a white figure staring back. My eyes widened and then narrowed and I growled at the figure, which promptly left the kitchen.

Matt looked at me. "That was…" I didn't answer him and looked away, avoiding his eyes. I wasn't about to tell him about my worst defeat when he could ask anyone else in the house and get the same story. Saved me the humiliation of telling the tale myself. He got the hint. "Oh, okay. Do you want some breakfast, Mello?" Well, duh. I wouldn't be in the kitchen otherwise. I just rolled my eyes at him and got some chocolate chip pancakes. My favorite day was Thursday because of breakfast, except for the fact that the weekly test was the day after.

Test day was humiliation day. Sure, there was always that slight hope that I'd beat Near and win, for once, but that hope had been there for years, and I didn't put much faith in it anymore. No, I couldn't think of that, the only one hurt would be me. Unless it got too far and I actually punched the bastard. But then I'd be in trouble with Rodger. Again.

I shook my head to clear it of those thoughts, and walked out of the kitchen with my pancakes. Matt picked up food for himself and followed me. I walked straight out of the dining hall and down to the library. He kept following me. Whatever, if he wanted to eat in the library, he could. Didn't affect me… I passed through the doors and veered towards Ms. Barnes' desk. She jumped, as usual. "Oh, Mello! Come to eat again? I'll get a study room for you… i-is the new boy sitting with you as well?" I turned around to see Matt standing a few paces behind me. He nodded, and she took us to the conference room. "W-well… have a good meal!"

"Hey…"

"She'll get used to you if you keep visiting, she only stutters around people she isn't comfortable around," I interrupted before he could say anything. Actually, that was most of the house, besides me and maybe albino-boy. Kids only came to the library for classes and research papers, normally. He nodded, and I took a book from the bookshelf, not really caring what it was. 'Middle Eastern Themes: Papers in History and Politics,' it announced itself. Thrilling. I opened it up, not expecting to get very far without interruption, but across the table Matt pulled out his handheld game and started playing by putting it on the table and using one hand so he could eat with the other. What was he playing, anyways?

Nothing as interesting as Al-Afghani's moves towards bringing about political union between Muslim countries, I'm sure. Such a heart-capturing book, really. Sigh. Plenty of people may be interested in this particular topic, and I'm sorry to offend them, but who _writes books_ about this stuff? How many hours do they sit looking at all this pointless (at least to me) information to put together this thing?

I finished my chocolate chip pancakes while reading it anyways. Once you get used to reading boring books it doesn't affect you as much, but I still like taking time to ponder what kind of person the author might be. Boring, no doubt. Or maybe they just know so much useless information that they wrote the book to keep track of it. Whatever the case, I wasn't reading that thing any longer than I had to. I stood up and put it away, in which time Matt noticed I was done eating and paused his game to wolf down the rest of his breakfast. He was done with half a pancake by the time I put the book back and turned around.

I wondered why he followed me around, and remembered my question from last night. "Hey Matt, are we friends?" He tilted his head and countered with his own question.

"Do you _want_ to be friends?" I started at that. _Did_ I want to have a friend? I wasn't sure what friends did. He seemed to notice my hesitation and smiled at me. "Yeah, let's be friends." His smile didn't seem as forced today… wait, why did I remember that? He didn't seem to notice my daze, or just didn't care, because he came and ushered me out the door (if you consider 'usher' a more polite term for 'push') with the two plates stacked in my hands.

Wriggling out of his grasp there, I gave him a dirty look and shoved the plates he had given me into his chest, where he took them (too gently in my opinion) and trailed after me back to the kitchen where they got dumped in the sink.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey Mello, what are we being trained for?" Rodger had given me my schedule after breakfast and on it gave me four language courses (French, Japanese, Spanish, and Mandarin… why did I need to know so many languages anyways? Idiotic), Basic World History and Politics, Programming, Computer Design, and… self-defense training. Why oh why did I decide to tell the truth when I said I didn't get much exercise?

"For becoming the next L," he said. He seemed kind of distracted before, but my question seemed to interest him.

"L? What's that?" He gaped at me.

"You don't know who L is? He's the greatest detective in the _world_! You've really never heard of him?" I shook my head; I never paid much attention to the news, and all the adults in mom's office talked about work or their lives, never anything outside of the city. Well, New York was a fairly big city, there was a lot to talk about even without news from other places. Mello continued talking about L. He seemed really into it… But as riveting as the conversation was, I had a question.

"Um… Mello?"

"And he… huh?"

"Where do I go for these classes?" The schedule had room numbers, but I had no idea where those rooms actually were. He smiled and came over.

"Which classes do you have?" Without waiting for a response, he read over the names and told me where to go for each. I memorized all the directions and thanked him before running off to the library for Computer Design.

"Good morning, I presume you are the new student, Matt?" the man I presumed was the teacher said as soon as I stepped in the room. He seemed to be only 19 or 20 years old, dressed pretty casually, and was sitting on a desk next to the teacher's computer.

All the other students were sitting already, each at a separate desk with a computer. Marcus, Jill, Christy, and Danny… I nodded back to the teacher and replied, "Yeah, sorry, am I late?"

He stood up and waved me to a computer desk next to Danny. "No no, don't worry about it! It's only your first class, I wouldn't expect you to know where your classes are when you just got them! I'm Mr. Nielsen, but you can call me Dave. I teach many of the computer courses around here. I graduated the same year as Jane, Ms. Barnes downstairs?" He questioned, making sure I knew her. Yeah, sure, I knew her, but _graduated_? He had already started class, so I'd find him after to question him about it.

Much to Dave's surprise, I caught on pretty quickly. The course had started last week, but working on my own I got through the first few classes of work in that period. It was actually a pretty interesting course, and after class Dave offered to help me catch up during lunch and free block. I agreed (needed to catch up in all the classes, might as well start now, right?) and asked my earlier question.

"What did you mean, earlier, when you said you "graduated" with Ms. Barnes?" He laughed.

"Oh, most of the teachers here were originally students here. Only one person gets to be L's successor, you know. Many take their papers and leave for good, to get jobs out in the world, but a few stay and teach classes here."

"So, Ms. Barnes also went here?" It sounded strange to me. Sure, this place was nice and all, but when you get the chance to see someplace new, why not take that chance? I wouldn't make a good teacher… not at all.

"Haha, yes, she's pretty shy, when she left she couldn't stand it, and came back to her books."

"Oh, so she _did_ leave, but then came back…"

"Yes, all the orphans spend at least two years outside the house, then come back if they wish to stay here." He checked his watch. "Let me show you to your next class. Mandarin, is it? This way, then. You'll be taught by Scott."

Scott happened to be a small man with dark brown hair that needed serious washing, and glasses that looked too small for his eyes. His class was about as confusing as the mop of hair on his head. There were too… many… characters! Was 'Wei' this character or that one? How many strokes were in this character? What was the name of this character, and what did it mean? And they expected me to _memorize_ this?

I passed Mello when going into the dining hall for lunch. He acknowledged my existence, which I suppose was more than he did for most people, and left to go to the library, probably. That was fine. I was going to ask about that kid from earlier anyways, and presumably Mello didn't want to be there when I did. I got a bowl of soup and grilled cheese from the kitchen and looked around for one of the more talkative kids. Hm… Linda wasn't sitting with anyone yet, so I walked up to her.

Crap. Now I'd have to actually _talk_ to her… "Um…" She looked up.

Seeming to know what I was going to ask, she moved over and said, "sure, go ahead. Is there something you wanted to ask, or…" She trailed off. I plopped down next to her and nodded.

"Yeah, the white kid…" I knew that he had to be Near, but the kids seemed wary about my memory. I didn't like being the center of attention.

"Oh, you mean Near?" She asked. I looked at her, acting the unknowing curious child, and she continued. "Near is the one with the best scores around here. Mello's a close second, but… he doesn't really like Near all that much. Well, at all. There have been times Near's gotten beaten up from Mello losing his temper. Near took his place as first, and—" Wow, she could really _talk_.

"So, um…" I was already getting bored of her speech. "Where is he, usually…?" Linda looked at me strangely. Great. More unwanted attention.

"He's not very social… but if you really want to see him, I suppose you could look in the playroom… either there or the library." I nodded. Great, I'd like to meet this guy. Finishing my soup (the grilled cheese had perished during the lecture on Near), I got up and dumped my tray in the kitchen. To the playroom, then.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Hehe, technically I'm on vacation right now, but I'm updating anyways! ^^' I'm so glad people like this! :D Thank you to all who read/alerted/faved/reviewed, I love you SOO MUCH!!! Thank you to my beta, **caveat lector**, who was nice enough to put together and edit all three pieces of this chapter that I sent her individually, (^^') and who helped me create the ending of this story when I got stuck and panicked.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the order the words are placed in.

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Near was actually fairly easy to find. Seeing as the only thing in the playroom at the moment was a _very_ inconspicuous 6-foot-tall tarot card fortress and some abandoned toys and books. Hm. Let's think now. _Really_ hard. Where would a little white ball of fluff want to hide? _Surely_ not in the perfectly blending tarot card fortress… It's called sarcasm, in case you didn't figure it out. Sure enough, a little white hand came up to add another layer of tarots to the top of a wall.

_More_ conversation, huh? Moving sucks. "Um… Near, is it?"

A bland voice returned from beneath the depths of the structure. "And you are the new kid here, I presume? Matt, wasn't it?"

"Uh… yeah." I stepped closer. "So…" What was I supposed to say? "How's it going?"

The voice still seemed bored. "Be more specific, please. How is what going? My daytime activities? Fairly well, in accordance to grades, not so nicely in amusement level. The building of my fort? Productively. L's new case? As far as I can tell, it seems to be getting wrapped up and will most likely be settled soon."

There was that mention of L again. "Near, who is L? I know he's a great detective or whatever, but… surely he's more than just that." I had slowly been creeping closer and closer, and was now standing right next to the formation of cards.

Near didn't look at me when he replied, even though he had to have seen me. "L is the reason this orphanage is gathering naturally smart children." Wait a second, I'm naturally smart? Wow, that's an interesting fact-of-the-day. He stopped there. Um… hello?

"…Near? Can I get an explanation to go with that?"

He didn't seem to be paying attention to me, but just as I was about to talk again, he spoke up. "The children here are all being trained to become the next great world detective, including you. When L dies or takes leave of his office for some reason or another, the replacement will step in and continue his work. L must have great reasoning skills, a quick mind, good common sense, so on and so forth, there is a long list of skills that are necessary. Children here are also encouraged to nurture their natural skills and habits, which why you may find some interesting traits in the students here."

Wow, this kid seemed to read my mind. "Oh, so that's what all that was about… Most people don't develop personal quirks for fear of being stared at, but… I suppose that's not an issue here, then."

"Not at all, it is encouraged. Are you implying that you are not normal— though of course you aren't, being here— seeing as normal people wouldn't wear piloting goggles all day, every day?" I nodded- I never did see myself as normal, but then again, I didn't really stand out too much, either. I hoped.

"So, uh… what do you think about Mello?" This time he just stayed silent in requesting that I explain my question. "I mean, are you angry at him for hitting you sometimes, or annoyed at him for always getting mad at you, or…" I trailed off, hoping he'd catch the drift.

"Mello's mind and my mind work differently. As such, I feel I have no right to judge his ways. In some circumstances he may have the benefit, being so able to act as he is, but on occasion, having a second thought about that action is more effective." Near really was as detached as the kids said. No wonder they left him alone… he had no emotion whatsoever when he spoke.

"…I see. I actually have work to catch up on in my classes, so…" he nodded and looked at me for the first time since I entered the room. His eyes were big and gray, accenting the paleness of his skin. That was kind of creepy… I backed out and ran back to Dave's classroom.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Matt came running into the library right after lunch. What happened to him? He saw me and waved a hand, but didn't stop running. Huh. I raised an eyebrow in his general direction and put my book down to follow him. In case you were wondering, that does _not_ make me a stalker. He was headed towards the computer area… I found him talking to Mr. Nielsen. Being polite (_not_ stalker-like), I waited out of view until they were done talking.

"…and you looked really out of breath when you came in- well, you still do- so I was worried about you." Mr. Nielsen didn't _sound_ all that worried to me.

"No, I'm fine. I was going to come get help with all the work I missed…?" Matt was still breathing hard- wasn't very convincing when saying he was 'fine.' I guess he was planning on making up for all his missed classwork.

"Well… if you say so… Would you like to start with Computer Design work or Programming? I believe you have that class with me as well."

"Um… whichever you want." Why was I listening in on this again? And wasn't I planning on interrupting? What did I even want to say to Matt in the first place?

"Well, since I haven't had you for Programming yet, we can get you caught up for your first class of it tomorrow." Didn't I have plenty of other work I could be doing right now instead of wasting my time acting like a stalker here? Yes, I admit it- I was acting somewhat like a stalker. But I would stop. Now.

"Matt." Wow, that was surprising- my voice wasn't shaking at all. Even though I was shocked I had actually said anything, and had no idea what else I was going to talk about.

He turned around. "Mello?" He looked up once at Mr. Nielsen before running over to meet me. Great. In a somewhat quieter voice, he asked, "what's up?"

"Uh…" I had no idea what was up! "The ceiling." Wow… that was impressive, especially for me.

He smirked, but it quickly faded. "No, really, was there anything you wanted…?"

I shook my head, then asked (even though I already knew), "what are you doing here?"

"Oh, just some make-up work for my computer courses… hey, I should really work on that now, but I could see you later…?" I nodded and smiled at him, before waving and going back to my corner to study some more. That sounded nice, for some reason. I was looking forward to that 'later.'

Later turned out to be right before dinner, when he came to find me in my study corner (it's mine because since I work over there, none of the other kids dare come near it, and I claimed it as my own) and sat down with me for a few minutes before dinner started.

"So," he began, "what was that all about, earlier?" I looked up over my math textbook to raise an eyebrow at him. "Hadn't you already heard the conversation between me and Dave?" Why was he referring to Mr. Nielsen's first name? I scrunched my eyebrows. For some reason, I didn't like that. "Why did you ask again?" I also didn't like his observation skills.

"Uh…" I shrugged. There was nothing I could say to that. He didn't ask about it again, so I posed a question. "What work do you do in Programming?"

He talked for a few minutes about the programs they were using and adjusting and what different computer symbols meant for at least 10 minutes, and then started talking about something else. "So, what have you been doing, math stuff? …Square root 53 over 6." Huh? I looked at the answer of the problem I had been working on. Square root 53 over 6… wow.

"Why are you so good at math?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. I hate writing though. And talking. I don't talk to anyone." I raised an eyebrow at him pointedly. "Fine, with one exception."

"So I'm an exception, am I?"

"Yup! I don't like talking to people, usually, but you're okay."

When he finished eating (about when I was halfway done, even though I started before him) he started talking. "So… why do you hate Near?" I almost choked. And he brings up the _one_ thing I don't want to talk about. Of _course_. "Hey, you okay?" I nodded and waved him off; I didn't need him worrying about me.

When I stopped coughing, I snarled at him. "Can't you talk to anyone else about it?"

He leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. "I already did." I looked at him. He locked eyes with me and smiled. "But I wanna hear it from you."

Oh, thanks. Why… oh right. He doesn't like talking to other people. Fine, I'd pose my own question. "So why don't you like talking to people?" He released his hands from where they were clasped behind his head and the smile disappeared. He hung his head in his hands and shrugged.

"You first."

Fine, you get the simplified version then. "He took my place as first here."

"And? There's more." He looked at me, waiting. How did he know there was more? Did he just think so, or did someone tell him? How much did he really know about me? I hate guessing.

I growled and continued. "And he has no emotion. He's the kind of guy who would go to a funeral of a baby and not shed a tear. My mother…" Why was I talking about my mother? I'd barely known this guy for a day, and I was talking about something I hadn't told _anyone_ before. He was waiting for me to continue though, so I kept talking. "My mother was pregnant when she drowned. I was going to have a little sibling. The only reason I didn't go on that ship was that my aunt was sick and wanted me to stay with her, and she died three days after we got the news that the ship sank." Dammit, I was not going to cry!

"Your mom must've been really pretty." I blinked. Where the hell did that come from? I looked at Matt. He was resting his elbows on his knees and his face in the palms of his hands, like it was storytime or something. He looked like he was reminiscing about something, but I had no idea what, since he was talking about _my_ family.

"Yeah…"

"You take after your mom?"

Okay, now that was a little creepy. "Y-yeah… um, how did you…"

He smiled. "Thought so." …Huh. "You got off topic." Hm? Oh yeah, I was talking about… Near. Growl.

"Tch, yeah. What annoys me about him is his total lack of emotion and the fact that he doesn't even _try_. I work my ass off to catch up to him, and he just plays with toys all day! It's not fair! Why does he beat me at everything? Why is he so much better? It's like he doesn't even care that he took my spot. It's the same when I beat him up, too. He'll just stare blankly, not even react. Maybe wincing a little, but… no sound, no expression… argh! Can't he understand how frustrating it is to get beaten in grades by someone who's almost two years younger than you and who doesn't work?" Matt just listened. When I was done, he just smiled ruefully and waited until I calmed down. "Your turn," I mumbled.

He didn't seem happy. "Oh… I guess it is, huh? Well… I lived in a big city with my mom. I'd often go to the office with her, and at some point, maybe a year or two ago, she decided that I was old enough to do errands outside the office. That was exciting, since I hadn't really ever been anywhere without my mom before. And… well, New York is dangerous. I had assumed that everyone was as nice as my mom and her friends at the office. It's not true, especially in a big city like New York. There are too many backstreet alleys for gangs to hang out in, and that's not a safe place for a 5 year old…" He trailed off, hiding his eyes. "Well, mom never sent me out alone after that, and I didn't talk to strangers after that. Not even kids my age. There were kids around my age in that group, just smirking at me… they seemed so nice before… gonna show me where the post office was and everything…"

"Must've been hard to come here, then…" Oops, did I say that out loud?

"Yeah, even though I know the kids here aren't like that, I keep getting these images… the faces stuck. I can't get rid of them."

We were both silent for a few minutes, and completely still.

"Well then..." this was getting somewhat awkward. I stood up and brushed off my jeans. Matt didn't move. "I have homework, so..." Was he even listening? He didn't seem to be... I just shrugged it off and took my dishes with me before leaving the room. Though technically, no homework actually got done until after a lot of pondering over that spilling-of-guts, which ended up with me going to bed around 3:30. Oh well, it's been worse.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

That talk with Mello was going to give me nightmares again, I just _knew _it. And this time I didn't have mom to run to in the middle of the night to scare away the bad dreams. There was no one to hug me and tell me everything was going to be alright. I had to deal with nightmares alone this time.

I fell asleep sometime after 12:15, after staring at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity. I dreamt of a ship going out to sea. On the deck was a beautiful woman whose eyes were hidden beneath blond curls. For some reason I knew that they were blue, a deeper, richer blue than even the ocean. She had one hand resting protectively on her visibly grown stomach, and the other hand was waving at me, on the docks. A man was standing next to her, hand around her waist, also waving goodbye. He had brown hair and a moustache; like the woman, I couldn't see his face. There was another girl on his other side, leaning over the railing of the ship, waving enthusiastically and smiling. Her brown hair was in a long ponytail that was getting tangled in the wind, and although I didn't have the same recognition of her as the adults, she seemed to belong there.

For some reason though, I had a very bad feeling about that boat leaving the dock. A voice I felt like I knew from somewhere choked out, "don't go..." and the image shattered like glass, leaving me to fall into a dark void. All around me were images of faces, children's and adults', fading in and out as I fell. All were smirking and laughing at me. I curled up into a ball and closed my eyes, wishing them away, but I could still hear their taunting, and I could still see their faces haunting me beneath my eyelids. Then there was the sound of a car skidding and crashing, and my eyelids flew open to rest on the bluish-white tone the moonlight made on the ceiling as it streamed through the window. "Don't go..." the voice echoed.

Something clicked. Mello.

A stream of tears washed my face and I couldn't remember when my goggles came off, but my cheeks were damp and my chest heaving and I could hear broken sobs that seemed unearthly and I didn't recognize my voice. I couldn't sleep after that.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Whoops, I forgot to add one of these on here this morning! ^^' Um... **caveat lector** is beta (obviously, and she's wonderful as well 3) and also thank you to **living in a fantasy **for pointing out the creepy way the first part of this chapter was formatted in the first post! I didn't notice it came out that way because I was rushing... ^^' And please, all you people who read and don't review, _I know you're out there _because I check my story traffic, _please _review, _even if it's only a few words_! It really means a lot to me! *whimpers*

**Disclaimer: **Nothing referenced to belongs to me, obviously.

* * *

I went to wake up Matt the next morning and found his bed empty. The sheets were ruffled and falling off the bed and his goggles were caught in them, lying on the floor. I went in cautiously. "Matt?"

Silence. I went to the middle of the room and looked around to see him curled up in the corner behind the dresser. He was staring blankly at his feet. I addressed him again, softly. "Matt...?" Very slowly, almost painfully, he lifted his head.

I was met with the most _stunning _emerald I had ever seen (and will ever see) in my life. I was so shocked my mouth fell open and I didn't talk for several minutes. He spoke in my absence.

"Me...o..." That was the loneliest sound I had heard from any human being. His mouth made all the correct movements to say my name, but little sound actually came out, and it sounded closer to the whimper of a puppy that actual English. In fact, Matt himself seemed much like an abandoned puppy right now.

"Matt, are you okay?" A nod; again, excruciatingly slow. I guess I really shouldn't have been surprised, after the night before, but at the time it didn't occur to me. "Are you hungry?" He shook his head. "You going to class today?" He hesitated. "You don't have to if you're not feeling well." He looked at the floor miserably, and mouthed 'okay...'

"Should I tell them--"

"Mello!" That's when Rodger came in. "What's wrong with Matt?" Of _course_. I looked at him huddled in the corner and sat next to him.

Leaning over, I whispered in his ear, "you don't want to go to class?" A shake of the head. "...should I stay with you?" He looked at me, eyes hopeful, then hid his face in his knees and nodded a few times. I smiled. "Rodger, Matt's not feeling well, so he'd like to stay here today."

"Of course! Is there anything--"

"And," I interrupted, "I'm staying here to take care of him." Rodger was shocked. Sure, I didn't really pay attention to the other kids, but he just looked _so pathetic_, could you blame me? Plus, he was my friend now, right? That ought to give me _some _responsibility to care about him… right?

Once he recovered somewhat, Rodger looked over us crouched in the corner; Matt's head on his knees, my arms protectively hovering around him. "Ah... alright, Mello. As long as you get the work you're missing from class, you can stay here today. Matt's teachers will understand, I'm sure."

...Right. I had forgotten most of the children were upset when they first arrived, even though Mr. Wammy gives them sufficient time at the hospital to cry over their lost family. Even I cried myself to sleep the first few nights.  
After Rodger left, I told Matt, "I'll be right back, okay? I just need to get my classwork and breakfast and I'll be back." He looked at me forlornly. "Stay right there, okay?" I felt bad for leaving him like that, but those were Rodger's requirements. I ran out before I could feel any guiltier.

...Guilty? What was wrong with me? I shrugged it off and ran to find my teachers.  
When I got back with a neat stack of papers and some food (not two full meals since I knew, from experience, that it was hard to stomach things when you were really upset) it was nearly an hour and a half later, but Matt hadn't moved an inch. "Hey Matty..." Did I just say 'Matty?' He didn't seem to mind though; more like he didn't respond at all. I put the tray down on his desk and went over to him.

I took him by the arms and slowly lifted him to his feet, and he didn't resist. I led him to the bed and he sat down again, and looked up at me. His lips were moving but no sound came out. It was then that I could look more closely at his face. His eyes were watery, like they could overflow with tears at any given moment, and his cheeks were red and tear-stained. His lips were trembling slightly, and I had a sudden urge to hug him tightly. That urge was intensified when I realized that he was holding onto my shirt in a death-grip.

"Matt, could you let..." I gave in. I hugged him, and I felt warm tears on my shoulder as whispers came to my ear."Don't let go... don't go away... stay here... tell me everything will be alright..."

Almost unconsciously, I said "everything will be alright, don't worry. I'm here." His ragged breathing slowed his grip on my shirt eased. His sobs faded into hiccups and soon, he fell asleep.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I dreamt that someone was watching over me. The gentle light surrounding them scared all the shadows away, and they kept petting my hair, whispering "everything will be alright, don't worry. I'm here." Over and over...  
I woke up to Mello sitting at my desk, writing. He glanced over and stopped.

He dropped his pencil and smiled at me. "Good morning, sunshine." I muttered back something along the lines of "so it was you," and rolled out of bed. I almost sat on my goggles.

"Waah!" How long had these been off for? I looked up, bewildered, and Mello raised an eyebrow at me.

"What? Forgot they weren't on?" I just blinked at him, and he abruptly changed the subject. "So, you hungry?" I hadn't realized it before, but since he said that...

"A little, is there food?"

"Well, there's a little here... or I could run down and get something now. Anything in particular you want?" _Mello_ running errands for _me_? Something was wrong with that picture.

"Why are you doing this for me?" He seemed surprised and maybe slightly flustered.

"Uh, well... am I not supposed to be concerned, as a friend, when you're not feeling well...?"

I couldn't help laughing. He really _hadn't _had any friends! I mean, not that I'd had any either, but at least I had a pretty good idea about what they were. He looked a little put out, so I said "thanks," still chuckling. That made him relax a bit, and he repeated his previous question.

"So, what do you want?" I hated those kinds of questions. People never told you what they _had_, and whenever you guessed wrong, they'd be all obnoxious about telling you that they didn't have that. I preferred when they gave you a list and you just stopped them when something sounded good. I shot back my favorite response to that question.

"What _is _there?" He frowned; evidently that wasn't his favorite question to be asked.

"Well, _you _seem better. Earlier, you--" he stopped, glancing over at me. I had a pretty good idea what he was thinking of though.

"--were doing a pretty accurate lost-puppy imitation?" He just stared at me, bewildered. Thought so... whoops. I scratched my head apologetically when I continued. "Sorry about that, it happens when I'm upset... heh, well I honestly don't remember exactly what I did but..." I really hoped I didn't say something weird to him. In that state, I was usually pretty out of it, and everything either wasn't committed to memory or seemed like a dream. Everything I did blurred... it hurt trying to separate the memories out.

He seemed to relax a bit, and said "we got off topic again." I nodded, and he frowned, thinking. "What we have, huh... well, I'm sure the cook wouldn't mind making you something--some kind of sandwich, soup, pasta..."

"Is there macaroni and cheese?" I might have been a _little_ too eager, but again, my mom couldn't cook. At all. I never _got_ homemade macaroni and cheese.

Mello seemed amused by my outburst. "Yeah, I can get you some, wait here, okay?" I nodded as he walked out the door.

So. Now what? At first I thought that I should've been in class, but then remembered (vaguely) requesting to Rodger to get me out of class today. I really should try to pay more attention when I drift off like that… I looked around for something to do and saw my goggles next to me on the floor.

…

Oops. I hadn't realized my goggles weren't on. I was slipping them over my eyes as Mello came back. He saw me, frowned, and turned away, sulking. What, did he not like my goggles or something?

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He put his goggles back on! Didn't he realize how pre—um, nice—his eyes were? Hmph. "So feel up to going to the kitchen? The cook is making your food right now."

"S-sure…" Why was he staring at me like that? I could _feel _his gaze. Shit, did he remember that I—oh damn, I hope not. I waved him out the door first so he'd stop analyzing me.

I sat across from him while he ate, reading text from class today. I glanced up periodically to see his progress at shoveling food down his throat as fast as physically possible. There was always visible progress each time I checked. "Why do you eat so fast?" That question had been bothering me for a while.

He looked up, shrugged and swallowed and said "dunno." Well, _that_ was helpful. He stopped eating to stare at something behind me. The only thing behind me was the door, so I had a fairly good idea what was there.

"Go ahead, whoever they are probably want to ask you something." My eyes didn't stray from my book. I was feeling uncharacteristically protective of Matt, and was determined not to show it.

He looked sad, scared, or disappointed—or a combination of the three—but nodded and got up. I didn't watch him go. Not long after, I heard footsteps at the door again. Back already? But no… that wasn't right…

I frowned, closed my book, and turned around to see Danny and his friends approaching. One of the guys, Butch, smirked at me.

"Hey Mello… chill man, we're only here to talk." Oh really, Butch? The way you're tensing your muscles suggests you want to punch something.

I narrowed my eyes at the three of them, who had gotten comfortable in the seats across from me. "Fuck off." Danny flinched, and eyed Matt's plate before gingerly pushing it away. He didn't meet my eyes or respond to my words, but changed the subject.

"Why is the new guy so different?" Oh, it was this, huh? I used to play football with these guys, but I stopped when Near came so I could focus on my studies. Apparently they were still bitter about it.

"What are you so mad about? Did you start losing or something when I quit playing?" Danny's eyes widened, still staring at his hands. "Oh, was that it? Well, it's not my fault you dumbasses can't score goals."

Danny looked at me for the first time since he came in. "Whatever, he'll realize how difficult you are soon enough. In fact," he snickered, "maybe he's realizing that right now…" I gave him a fiercer glare for that. They got uncomfortable soon enough and left me alone.

Now the big question was: would Matt find other friends now? After I finally had someone to talk to… it wasn't as big a burden as I thought it would be.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Well, I guess… we'll see you around?"

"Uh, sure…" Didn't those girls realize that I didn't _want_ to 'see them around?' I didn't like people asking favors of me like that. I usually blew them off as if I didn't hear anything, or deliberately do the opposite. This was one of those times I was encouraged to do the opposite. It wasn't like he'd gotten mad at me yet…

I looked up to see someone walking out of the dining hall. He looked older than most of the kids here, and had messy black hair and pale skin. He was crouched over, chewing on one thumbnail, and holding tightly to a jar of jam with the other hand.

He turned and stared at me with bright red eyes that had large bags underneath, as if he hadn't slept at all for at least a year… He grinned in a way that made me shiver. "Hello there, Mail."

Who _was_ this guy?


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Gah! I didn't mean to postpone this for so long... ^^' Sorry! I got caught up in life and temporary writer's block (which I'm sure EVERYONE has at some point) and it didn't get written for a long time... Thanks to **caveat lector** for reminding me to write and beta-reading as always. ^^ You're a lifesaver~ I would normally think of more to write here, but right now I'm going to be late for school, so I'll leave it at this. ^^' Enjoy!~

**Disclaimer: **Why is this even necessary? I don't own Death Note.

* * *

"_Hello there, Mail." _

"How do you know my name?" Surprisingly, none of my shock or insecurities showed in my voice. And I really didn't think he would honestly tell me the answer, so I wasn't very shocked when he continued talking as if I didn't say anything.

"You may call me B." He tilted his head sideways and licked around the edge of the jam jar. This guy was really freaking me out… but I knew it didn't look that way on my face. I could trust myself to never show my emotions, at least. "You must be new; I haven't seen you around before…" Okay, now _that_ was really weird. He knew my name without knowing who I was?

I heard a voice from inside the dining hall, coming closer. "B, who are you talking t—" Mello peered around the doorframe. "Matt!" B took his tongue away from the jar of jam and looked at Mello, then at me, tongue still sticking out, then addressed Mello.

"You know this boy?"

"Yeah, he's my… friend…" It seemed Mello had a hard time saying 'friend.'

"Hm… Well, I suppose I will see you later then, Mihael." I couldn't tell what B was thinking when he pet Mello's head once and turned to exit the other side of the hall. Mello watched him go before turning back to me.

"Mello… your name is Miha—?" Mello clamped him hand over my mouth and pulled me down the hall and up the stairs to his room before speaking again.

"Don't say that around the other kids. I suppose it's okay as long as it's… well, just don't tell anyone, okay? We're not supposed to use our real names here." Mello looked uncertain. I wondered why he cut himself off… He glanced up at me. "You won't tell, right?" I shook my head, leaning back against his bedpost. He nodded. "Good. I won't tell anyone you're Mail either, then."

"It's spelled Mail, but pronounced like 'Mile,' Mihael…" I liked his name, but since it was supposedly not allowed, I only whispered it. Mihael, Mihael, Mihael… such a pretty name. And I was one of the only ones who knew it.

We spent lunchtime in Mello's room (we had eaten early because I woke up early and conveniently escaped the rush), after he gathered his homework materials from my room and passed me my Gameboy. I made myself comfortable on his bed and he typed away at his seemingly endless supply of essays to write, edit, and rewrite. All and all, a wonderfully relaxing way to spend my time. I couldn't remember another moment in my life where I had felt so at ease, except maybe once or twice when mom sang me to sleep when I was really little…

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

What was B's _problem_? He was never interested in being around any of the other kids… and yet he _coincidentally_ bumps into Matt. Perhaps it was because he was around me? B always found me, maybe because I was in the same position he used to be in. I wondered if he still thought about surpassing L like he used to… there was no way it was possible to do that, but I also knew (from experience) that those feelings were hard to ignore. Impossible to ignore, even.

That thought was interrupted by a high chiming down the hall. Shit…! Why didn't I _remember_ today was the rankings test? I glanced at Matt, lying on my bed. He was watching me, waiting for an explanation. Ugh, it was _his_ fault I forgot about the test and didn't study! I kept our eyes locked as I stood, Matt following suit.

Without saying anything, he followed me out of my room, down the stairs, and into the library to the examination rooms. Rodger spotted us, assigned me a room, and took Matt into the hall to talk to him. I didn't see where Matt went after that, but pushed him from my mind when the test started.

The rankings test was fairly simple, at least to me. I hadn't really been old enough to get tests outside of Wammy's, though, so I didn't have anything to compare the difficulty to. The first section of the test was math, science, and psychology questions, working on the mathematical skills necessary to be L. The second section tested languages, seeing as L had to be able to work with various investigative agencies around the world. The third part focused on the world, and history of different countries, their policies, relationships with other countries, and also L's latest cases. Really, all of those things, as long as you kept up in class and watched the news, were pretty easy.

I always got stuck on the fourth part though… It gave a situation where you had certain pieces of a case and had to solve it given the clues you had, or write out how you would solve it if you would need an answer that could affect the resolution of the case. Near was always better at hypothesizing situations, so he always got a higher grade. And every time he got a higher grade, I snapped.

When I finished writing the most descriptive and lengthy step-by-step solution to the hypothesized case, I returned to my room to find Matt sitting in the hall, leaning against my door. He looked up as I approached and smiled, standing up and following me into my room. He was acting more and more like a dog; waiting for me at the door, following me around…

"Um… may I ask you a favor?" Asking permission… Well, I suppose dogs couldn't talk, but they _did_ know how to beg.

"What?"

He looked down at his hands, twiddling his fingers. "Will you come to the mall with me tomorrow?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He stared at me, mouth hanging open. Dammit, I _knew_ he'd be upset! "Um… you don't—" I started, hoping to take back my words. He shook his head vehemently before I finished though.

"The mall?" He asked, sounding skeptical. I was worried he'd get angrier if I started talking, so I waited for him to continue. He looked away after a minute, frowning slightly. "What's at the mall?"

My posture improved drastically and I willed my face to show the relief I felt knowing he wasn't annoyed with me, but I don't think it reacted. "Uh… I need new clothes, and maybe games, and… stuff…" It wasn't strange to feel awkward going clothes shopping alone, right? And it would be less strange to clothes shop with a friend as opposed to your mom… "Besides, hanging around the mall is fun, even if you're not buying anything!" Was I being persuasive enough?

Mello frowned and emitted a sound somewhat like a growl. "Fine…" he started, glumly, then smirked and turned to his computer. "But could you act any _more_ like a girl asking out her crush?"

…_What_ did I act like? "Well, at least I don't _look_ the part." Okay, with his reputation for hurting people who teased him, that probably wasn't the _smartest_ thing to do, but I had to do _something _in retaliation. It's just not socially acceptable to take that lying down. So to speak.

Mello turned around, slowly, eyes flaring. By that time, however, I had scooted back towards the door, and I quickly pulled it open and escaped into the hall, offering a "thanks, bye!" over my shoulder.

Halfway down the hallway I heard a screech of "MATT!!!" but I was already down the stairs and headed towards the library again by the time he reopened his door. I had a few questions for the resident bumbling idiot.

Ahem. "Ms. Barnes?" She flipped out, predictably. Wow, I knew I was quiet on my feet, but I didn't know I was _that_ quiet. Maybe she was going deaf. Or maybe she just liked overreacting to everything.

"M-matt!" she blustered. "W-what c-can I d-do for you?" I watched her wring her hands for a bit until she noticed and put them behind her back. My eyes flicked up to meet hers and she blushed again, and looked away. What _was_ it with the blushing?

"Hi. Mind if I ask you a few questions?" She'd definitely answer honestly, although probably while stuttering, as usual. I pulled up a chair and she plopped down in her own, almost bouncing back out of it.

"Who is B?" She stopped. Completely. Moving, twitching, just like I'd pushed the pause button specifically made for her. "Er… sorry to bring it up…?" Immediate life.

"Oh, no no! T-that was j-just…" She avoided looking at me, focusing on various objects around us until she felt ready to answer. "B is… Backup." Wow, that was the first thing she hadn't stuttered on when she spoke to me. And what did she mean by 'Backup?' Backup for what? "Or at least he used to be. Backup for L." She stopped to look at me, trying to gauge my reaction, but she didn't find anything useful. She sighed and started again. "The first generation of Wammy kids were lettered A, B, C, etcetera according to their rank. A killed himself last year… from the pressure of becoming L. The other letters were thrown into tumult and were taken off the prospective list of successors, and are now kept separate from the main house, in a cottage a little while away." She looked up at me again, and the spell of non-stuttering-Ms. Barnes was broken. "H-how did you k-know about him?"

"I saw him in the dining hall."

Her voice jumped up a few octaves. I was pretty sure those notes couldn't be reproduced by any known instrument. It would be interesting if she tried to sing… "I-in the m-main house? B-but… B's not a-allowed in h-here!" Good observation, Ms. Barnes. Since they were booted out of the house, they're probably not supposed to be here. How _did_ you figure out that awe-inspiring revelation?

…Okay, maybe I was being a _little_ too mean, but I was just in that kind of mood to make fun of people. Sarcasm is good for that. "Oh, and also… well, never mind, I can figure it out myself. Thanks for your help…" I stood to leave.

"Oh… u-um, y-you're welcome…" She seemed a little upset, but I suppose that wasn't really a topic she was happy talking about. I'm sure she knew much more about that story than she told me.

Mello was leaning against the wall right outside the library. He turned to me and I smiled timidly. I desperately, impracticably prayed that he forgot about earlier… He flashed a feral grin, unfolded his arms and pounced. My feet collapsed under me and I fell backwards, or _flew_ backwards, hitting my shoulder blades solidly on the hardwood floor. The wind was knocked out of me, and watching his smile widen, I found myself fervently hoping that he wouldn't notice how much that smile scared me. Glares I could handle, but that smile… I couldn't handle that. His eyes glimmered dangerously and showed teeth that looked too pointed to be human…

He playfully gripped my neck, tightly enough to hurt but not permanently damage, and asked "now who looks like a girl again? Well, Matt?"

"U-um…" Apparently Ms. Barnes stuttering was contagious. "J-just kidding?" Or maybe he was really that frightening at that moment. He didn't look convinced, but noticed how I was squirming uncomfortably and got off. He was known for being ruthless, so I was a little surprised, but I forgot about it when I sat up and felt a sting of pain course through my back. "Ow…" Mello mumbled something about being "gentle" and "friends," which I took as him being sorry, and I assured him I was okay. Even though it still hurt.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Sor—uh, I never had to be gentle before… I haven't had any friends until now…"Actually, he was pretty fragile, too. The boys outside always tackled each other playing sports during free time and never even bruised.

"Hm?" He blinked at me after inspecting a bruise forming on his elbow. "Oh, don't worry about it," he replied breezily, turning back to his bruise. I didn't mean for him to hear that…

"Okay…" This was awkward. I didn't know what to say to break the silence, so it held for the entire walk back to our rooms. When he got me for dinner, it was as if nothing had happened.


End file.
